


Over a Beer Bottle

by Persiflage



Series: The Ways You Said 'I Love You' [8]
Category: Holby City
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Drinking, Episode: s19e07 The Kill List, F/F, Kissing, Light Angst, Literal Sleeping Together, Missing Scene, Newly established relationship, Post- The Kill List, Prompt Fic, Sharing a Bed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-23
Updated: 2020-07-23
Packaged: 2021-03-05 07:34:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,880
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25467097
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Persiflage/pseuds/Persiflage
Summary: Missing scene for after S19E07 - The Kill List. Bernie lets Serena know how she feels about her.
Relationships: Serena Campbell/Bernie Wolfe
Series: The Ways You Said 'I Love You' [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1750207
Comments: 10
Kudos: 69





	Over a Beer Bottle

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Bat_and_Breakfast](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bat_and_Breakfast/gifts).



> From the list of prompts _The Ways You Said 'I Love You'._

The blonde by the bar is gesticulating, a little too wildly for safety, given the beer bottle in her hand. “I do love you, you know,” she says emphatically, not slurring the words – surprisingly.

“Yes, Major, you’ve said. At least four times now.” The constant repetition would irritate Serena were it not for the fact that Bernie’s never usually this articulate about her feelings. Plus, it’s Bernie telling her she loves her. She could never get irritated by that, no matter if Bernie repeats it a dozen times a day every day.

“I’m sorry,” Bernie says quietly, staring down at the bottle in her hand. She brings it to her mouth and Serena tries not to watch her throat working as she swallows her drink. Trouble is, it’s all too easy to get lost in staring at the long column of Bernie’s neck and the gloriously prominent collarbones below that neck. Sometimes she has to forcibly restrain herself from simply leaning in and nibbling, kissing, and sucking her way down that throat and along those collarbones.

“Why are you sorry?” Serena asks, a little confused.

“Because you deserve someone better than me, someone who’s not a coward who runs away at the thought of commitment.”

“C’mon soldier,” Serena says. “Let’s get you home. This is not the place for this conversation.”

To her relief, Bernie doesn’t argue. She drains her bottle of the last of the beer, leaving it on the bar, then allows Serena to lead her, their fingers tangled together, across the pub and out into the Spring sunshine.

“Think you’d better drive,” Bernie says and tries to pass Serena her keys.

“I think you definitely shouldn’t drive if you think I’m any more capable of driving than you, love,” she says, the endearment slipping out unintentionally. “I’ve called for a taxi.”

Bernie pockets her keys and waits silently beside Serena, her gaze fixed on the pavement. Serena doesn’t try to initiate a conversation – she suspects Bernie might’ve used up her words for the moment, with all those repeated declarations of love in the pub. Serena’s just glad that they decided to go somewhere other than Albie’s today – she’d rather not have any of her colleagues from work overhearing Bernie’s assertions of her feelings, given how much fodder they’ve already provided the rumour mill of late. 

The taxi pulls up promptly, and Serena guides Bernie in, giving the cabbie her address as soon as they’re seated. The ride back to her leafy detached continues to be silent, but Bernie’s grip on Serena’s hand is firm and secure, and she enjoys the sensation of holding the hand of the woman with whom she has fallen in love.

She pays the cabbie on arrival at her home, then ushers Bernie out of the car and up the drive to her front door. She’s pleased to note that once they’re inside Bernie has enough coordination to unzip and remove her ankle boots as well as slide off the light coat she’d slipped on over her button down shirt. She sheds her own coat and shoes, then leads the way into the kitchen. It’s after 10pm, so Jason’s already in bed. 

“Do you want a cup of tea?” Serena asks as Bernie settles at the table.

“Please.”

Serena fills the kettle and switches it on, then gets out the decaffeinated teabags and makes them both a mug of tea. “Biscuit?” she asks, and Bernie nods jerkily. It’s only as she sets down the tin of biscuits on the table that Serena notices that Bernie’s sitting on her hands and she wonders if that’s to stop them fidgeting.

“Drink up, soldier,” she says, setting down their mugs on the coasters. After placing Bernie’s in front of her she can’t help rubbing her free hand across the back of Bernie’s neck, where the muscles are tight with tension, and leaning down to press her lips to the blonde’s temple.

They sip their tea in silence, both munching on a biscuit each.

Eventually, Bernie asks, “What happens next? With us, I mean?”

“What do you want to happen?”

Bernie shrugs a shoulder. “The usual stuff? Dating. Kissing.” She peeks under her fringe as she looks across the table. “Maybe more, if that’s what you want?”

“I do want. I want very much,” Serena tells her. “I wanted all of those things before you ran away to Kiev.”

Bernie’s shoulders hunch and she ducks her head. “I don’t think I said that I’m sorry I ran away because I was scared. And I’m sorry that I claimed that you needed time and space when really it was what I needed.”

“I accept your apologies,” Serena says. “And next time you’re scared or feel that you need time and space, please tell me that so we can talk about it before you run away.”

“I won’t run away again, Serena. I promise.” Bernie reaches across the table and Serena takes her hand in her own, a little shiver travelling down her back as the blonde rubs her thumb over the inside of her wrist. “I promise,” she repeats, her expression earnest.

“Okay. Good.” She’s about to say more when a yawn wracks her, and Bernie immediately pushes to her feet. 

“I should go,” she says.

“Stay,” Serena says and gets a wide eyed look in response. “Please? If you prefer, you can sleep in Ellie’s room, but I’d like you to stay here tonight.”

Bernie swallows, the sound audible in the otherwise silent kitchen. “I’d like to stay with you, if that’s okay?”

“It is.” Serena gets to her feet too and puts their teacups into the dishwasher which Jason had loaded earlier, then starts the programme. 

Then she gently pulls Bernie in for a soft, fairly chaste kiss, before drawing Bernie’s arm through her own, leading her out of the kitchen and upstairs to her bedroom.

“Nothing has to happen tonight if you just want to sleep,” Serena says softly once they’re in her room. 

“I–” It’s Bernie’s turn to yawn and Serena chuckles softly. 

“C’mon then, soldier,” she says, and shows Bernie into the ensuite to wash up and brush her teeth, plucking a new toothbrush, still in its packaging, from the stack she keeps in the bathroom cabinet. “Ellie invariably forgets hers when she comes visiting.”

Bernie nods and takes the toothbrush, then presses a kiss to the corner of Serena’s mouth. “Thank you for asking me to stay,” she breathes.

“Thank you for staying.” Serena turns her head and kisses her firmly on the mouth, not even attempting to be chaste this time. “I’ll leave you to it.”

Bernie nods and Serena can hear that she’s affected the blonde by how ragged her breathing has become. She saunters out of the bathroom, aware of Bernie’s gaze on her as her hips sway exaggeratedly and she smiles at the thought of sleeping with the blonde at last. Even if all they do is sleep, it’ll be a good start simply having Bernie in her bed.

After a few minutes Bernie comes out of the ensuite smelling of Serena’s floral scented soap and minty toothpaste. 

“I think those jogging trousers will fit you,” she tells her. “And there’s a t-shirt that I think will fit despite your shoulders.”

“My shoulders?” Bernie repeats, sounding bewildered.

“Yes, love, your shoulders.”

“Okay.” Bernie begins unbuttoning her shirt with her usual lack of self-consciousness about undressing in front of others and Serena can’t help watching, well staring would be more accurate. Bernie sheds her long sleeve shirt, then her vest top and skinny jeans, leaving her in a black sports bra and plain black knickers; Serena licks her lips as the blonde reaches behind herself and unhooks her bra, pulling it free and dropping it on top of her other clothes. Then she straightens up and putting her hands on her hips, leers – quite comically – at Serena. 

“See anything you like, love?” she asks in fake Cockney accent that has Serena clapping a hand over her mouth to keep her guffaws from waking Jason.

“Well, that’s hardly a promising start,” Bernie says in her normal accent when Serena falls back onto the bed, burying her laughter in her pillow.

When she manages to control her laughter and straighten up again, Bernie’s pulling the drawstring tight on the jogging trousers, the t-shirt already covering her up. Serena gets to her feet and catches her under her chin with one finger, lifting her head to say, “I’m sorry love, but you were being quite silly – unexpectedly so. I wasn’t laughing at how you look, I was laughing at the pose and the fake accent.”

“It’s fine, Serena.” 

“Hey,” Serena says, then abandons words for actions, kissing her deeply and sliding a hand up over Bernie’s torso from her flat stomach to her left breast, which she begins gently squeezing and fondling.

“You are gorgeous,” she says when she draws her mouth from Bernie’s. “And I definitely wasn’t laughing at your body. Okay?” She gives a final squeeze to the breast in her hand, then withdraws her hand from under her t-shirt. “I thought I’d already made it clear to you that I find you both attractive and desirable.”

Bernie nods, her eyes on the carpet. “Sorry,” she says, her voice husky. “Too much drink makes me maudlin.”

“Then we’ll say no more about it.” Serena pecks her lips against Bernie’s. “Get into bed, soldier, while I clean my teeth.”

Bernie sketches a salute, just two fingers vaguely pointed in the direction of her temple, and Serena shakes her head, then moves out of her reach and into the bathroom.

When she comes back from the ensuite Bernie has settled herself under the duvet on the side of the bed where the nightstand doesn’t hold any personal items. She’s pulled the duvet right up under her chin and has settled on her side so that she’s facing the door to the bathroom. She looks sleepy and adorable, and Serena swallows hard at the rush of emotion she feels at the sight.

“Comfy?” she asks.

Bernie smiles. “Your bed’s much comfier than mine,” she agrees. “Especially your sheets.”

“Egyptian cotton,” Serena tells her.

“With some incredibly high thread count?” 

She chuckles warmly. “Got it in one, Major.”

She slides into bed and settles on her side facing Bernie. 

“Hi,” whispers the blonde.

“Hello.”

They stare at each other for several long moments, then Serena tuts and says, “Come here, you silly goose” and pulls at Bernie’s arm until she settles with her head on Serena’s shoulder, her arm wrapped around Bernie’s shoulders. “That’s better.”

“Yeah,” the blonde agrees, then yawns again. 

“Right, sleep.” Serena turns off the light on her nightstand and they shift a little until they’re both completely comfortable.

“I love you, Serena Wendy Campbell,” Bernie mumbles sleepily.

“Love you, too, Berenice Griselda Wolfe.”

Bernie hums, sounding content, and in a short space of time her breathing evens out and Serena knows she’s gone to sleep.

She hopes this is the start of them moving forward in their relationship together. She also hopes that Bernie really meant it about not running away again. She couldn’t bear that agony a second time. She closes her eyes and allows sleep to take her.


End file.
